Drenched in Vanilla Twilight
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Will spends a few early hours reflecting on his relationship with Magnus. Helen/Will


**Drenched in Vanilla Twilight**

**Category**: Angst/Romance

**Pairing**: Helen/Will

**Summary**: Will spends a few early hours reflecting on his relationship with Magnus.

**Warnings**: Spoilers for Eulogy, Pavor Nocturnus, Next Tuesday and Sleepers.

**Disclaimer**: I own a whole bunch of nothing, well a cat and the entire collection of Stargate dvds... but somehow I don't think they'd go very far if I were to approach the writers of Sanctuary :P

**Authors Notes**: A little bit different to the style I usually write, but the idea was floating around and just wouldn't leave me alone. It probably could've used a bit more editing too, I'm not sure it flows so well... but let me know:)

* * *

Will shifted in bed, listening to the rain as it hammered down against the Sanctuary's tired foundations. He could feel it cleansing the grounds, bringing an air of calm to the aged structure and he sighed contently, snuggling closer to the women buried in his arms. She usually woke first but her inactive state was a welcome change, allowing him the simple luxury of observing her unguarded form. More often than not, he was only witness to it when her nightmares jolted him awake, robbing them both of any further sleep.

Stifling a yawn, he dropped his chin to her bare shoulder, brushing his lips over the soft skin. A crisp blue light had started to bleed in through the partially drawn curtain, signalling dawn was close, and he marvelled the fact she'd made it through the entire night without waking or more importantly vacating his bed. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that she would always been gone before morning and the fact she wasn't indicated a subtle change growing between them. Whatever line they were crossing it was no longer distinguishable, blurring beyond comprehension.

They'd _almost _slept together three times and for some reason those moments seemed more definitive than the action itself.

He could still recall the first time; the taste of tears, the hot flush of skin as she pressed against his body, stricken with grief after Ashley's funeral. She'd been like an animal, trying to claw her way out of a harsh reality with suffocating walls and he'd wanted nothing more than to ease the pain.

But morally and ethically it would've been wrong.

Despite her reckless seduction it hadn't taken much to over power her and she eventually given in, sinking into his arms with an apologetic sob. Even now he'd never tell her but later that night, when she'd finally ceased crying and exhaustion claimed her weary body, he'd stayed by her side. Not out of duty but because his own eyes were swollen with tears, terrified she was broken beyond repair. That even the Sanctuary, the work she lived for, wouldn't be able to bring her back from the brink of despair.

It was that moment he'd realised that some part of him was already entirely dependent on her presence and the rest of him, was falling in love.

The second time had been far less dramatic. Shortly after her return from Honduras he'd noticed her acting distant and while initially he'd assumed it was just over the illusive Mayan temple, her eye's told him another story. They brimmed with guilt, regret and clouded over every time he tried to question her about the importance of the failed mission.

She was hiding something.

It was only when he'd found her, hunched over a glass of wine in the library, that he'd discovered the real reason; her search was really a quest to cure her longevity. He was shocked, surprised and hurt that she hadn't trusted him with the truth earlier but as they talked, as the wine flowed freely between them, he began to understand. She was tired of outliving people, of losing the ones she cared about...

and the following kiss had been his way to offer her reassurance that he wasn't leaving, not any time soon.

Unfortunately the moment had been broken by the containment alarm sounding and sobriety had hit him hard. By the time the escaped abnormal was re-captured and the drama was all over with, they'd silently deemed not to mention the encounter and he'd retired to bed, only later realising he still hadn't asked about what had actually transpired on the mission.

The third time was a Tuesday, Ashley's birthday.

He was meant to be in Iceland attending a conference but after learning the significance behind the date he'd agreed to forgo the event. Eventually he'd found her sitting alone in one of the studies, clasping a velvet jewellery box. She'd remained impassive, handing him the object and he'd opened it with care, marvelling at the antique necklace; it would've been the perfect gift...

Desperate to erase the pain from her hollow eyes, he'd pulled her into a firm hug, relieved when she relaxed slightly. It was meant to be an innocent gesture but the adrenaline from their brush with death and heightened emotions over the day turned it into more.

A tangle of limbs and the removal of various items of clothing left them panting breathlessly against the desk, torn between desire and professionalism.

Neither of them wanted to stop but at the same time neither were willing to make the next move. It eventually ended with jolly tune emanating from her laptop, signalling Olaf Van Ausberg was awaiting a tele-conference and he'd left feeling a little hurt and annoyed. It didn't last though. As the day had worn on he'd found himself unable to stay angry, reminding himself that she'd chosen his presence over the rich man in Munich.

That had been the last of their _almost_ encounters. The next time there were no questions of ethics, no interruptions, and neither of them held back.

It was just after the de-vamping of Nikola Tesla. He'd been concerned, worried about her feelings towards the once vampire... and as he'd hovered outside the library, guiltily listening to their conversation, he knew his fears were warranted. Despite her show of annoyance with the arrogant man, he knew she cared for him and he could hardly compete with someone she'd known for over 150 years.

Retreating to the gym, he'd pounded out his frustration for over an hour before showering and retiring to his room, only to find her waiting patiently by his door. Quirking an eyebrow, he'd decided to save his questions until the morning as she stepped forward, capturing his lips.

By the time light seeped in through his curtains, signalling day break, she was already gone, rendering his bed cold and empty. When he saw her again at breakfast she didn't say anything. Neither did he. The sting of rejection prevented it, closing around his throat as he forced down another dry piece of toast.

He couldn't remember exactly how many times it had happened since then. More than a handful, less than a lot. There was no pattern, no structure but despite the questions burning on the tip of his tongue he never found an appropriate time to voice them. He was too scared that openly acknowledging their behaviour might shatter the fragile balance, enabling the existence of a physical and professional relationship.

He wanted more but if their current situation was all she was willing to give, he would take it.

A flash of lightning broke through the window, scattering shadows across the wall and disrupting his thoughts. For a second he was worried the disturbance might wake the women sleeping soundly beside him but her body remained completely relaxed and unaware of the raging storm. He could just make out her features in the waking light and a small smile graced his lips.

If she let him, he'd give her everything.

No questions, no hesitation, just a complete and utter acceptance that she was his entire reason for being. If she let him. It was the reason he deliberately kept himself in a perpetual state of free-fall. It would be so easy to stop, to love her but he he couldn't, not without understanding the reason behind her submission. Was she lonely? Seeking comfort? Were her actions derived from emotions?

The feelings were a closed book to him, and he knew how painfully it could end.

"_Will_..."

Her voice cut through the down poor of rain, still thick with sleep and he swallowed tightly, "you want me to leave?"

Even though it was his room, disturbing her rest wasn't something he took lightly. She didn't get nearly enough of it and he was willing to brave the crisp morning chill if it allowed her a few more moments of peace.

Usually alert, her mind was sluggish as she turned in his arms, struggling to comprehend the offer. His eyes were heavy, gazing lazily at her for a response and she sighed, burring her head in his chest. She was ruining him. Toying with his emotions by giving no explanation of what they were doing. Unfortunately the answers she'd long sort to provide him with were allusive even to herself. She cared about him, a great deal, but couldn't admit it out loud or even give him the reassurance.

"_Stay_." It was all she could manage, closing her eyes against the rapid beat of his heart. Even that one word had felt like too much, like she was bearing every part of her vulnerable and unguarded soul.

He didn't know why but the soft whisper stabbed sharply through his chest. He could handle being pushed away, taken for granted, at least then he knew what to expect but false hope made the risk that much higher. He was blind, no idea how far from the edge they were hovering and it was going to be a painful fall...

But if he was going over; it was better to jump than stumble.

"You can't keep changing the rules," he breathed out catching her hair between his fingers, "we can bend this but eventually it's going to break and we're both going to get hurt."

She tensed in his arms unsure how to respond. He was right, without definitive ground to stand on they didn't have a chance but that didn't make clarifying the boundaries any easier.

"Just answer me this-" he tried simplifying the problem for her, "if circumstances were different, if we were two normal people with normal lives, would you entertain the possibility of an actual relationship between us?"

It was a pointless argument but she considered the question none the less, drawing to a quick conclusion. "If our situation was different," she titled her head finding his gaze,"then yes, but it's irrelevant. We're not those people, nor will we ever be. "

He could hear frustration in her voice and slid his hand down to settle against the curve of her waist. He wasn't trying to dwell on what ifs, he was trying to ascertain how deeply her feelings ran. Whether or not they were worth fighting for, despite current inconveniences. "Do you think you could have loved me?"

The answer stuck in her throat and she was surprised at how quickly the truth reared up. If things between them had been that simple she would've loved him, in less than a heartbeat. In another time, another life, they might've even come close to perfect.

For the first time he read her like an open book, easily deciphering the emotions as they flickered across her face. Yes, it was complicated between them but that didn't undermine the fact they both wanted more than they were giving. He could see it written clearly in her eyes.

Dropping his hand to the base of her spine, he tugged her closer, "that's all I needed to know."

She looked confused for a moment, under the illusion he was keeping a pivotal piece of information secret. Given the nature of his work as a psychiatrist he tended to draw conclusion faster than most but she was sure she hadn't given anything crucial away. "Will, I didn't say-"

"_Anything_? I know, and it's okay..." he smiled, enjoying the warm feel of her body as the storm raged on outside. While she might not have articulated any major decelerations he still felt accomplished in the conversation, now privy to the knowledge that he had something to fight for. It wouldn't be easy but he had the rest of their 'complicated' lives to convince her they were worth it.

She relaxed with a short sigh, unusually tired given the hour. Whatever thoughts were racing through his mind she knew he wouldn't speak them, not until he was entirely sure of their conviction, and it left her feeling more than a little relieved.

Time would bare the answers and until then she was content to spend the moments in-between, wrapped in the warmth of his reassurance.


End file.
